Picaresqueties

I hate auditioning. I’m just not very good at it. While I can be very charming (I hope, but probably fail miserably) I tend to make terrible first impressions. Sometimes I just can’t stop talking. Sometimes I over-share. Sometimes I’m too comfortable with new people before realizing – hey, wait a second, you’re not my best friend who 1) I’ve properly vetted and know I can trust with my secrets, and 2) doesn’t mind telling me to shut the hell up.

But, alas, having to meet new people tends to be unavoidable. If I knew I wasn’t going to see said person ever again, I don’t get all worried about said first impression. However, that’s not quite the case when I audition/interview. In those cases, unfortunately, that person I just told my life story to (note: that was a hyperbole in action) must now judge me. Fan-freakin-tastic. There’s nothing I love more than a good ol’ fashioned judge-fest.

Nevertheless, I signed up for band this semester. And, you guessed it, that spurred an audition for chair placement. That debacle resulted in some pleasantries, some stilted playing, and some over-sharing.

As far as my auditions go, the playing was better than could be expected, given the fact that I didn’t have a chance to warm up, never really learned the names of scales, haven’t really played more than once in the last 15 months (holy smokes! that’s a long time) and suck at sight reading. And, hey, at least my over-sharing had to do with band and playing the trumpet. Right?

Yeah, we’ll go with that. At least the man that starred in my own personal “Judgement Day” was super nice and kind of cute. I’ll take what I can get.

And now, because I love this band and the trumpet interlude at the end: